


Prequel: Party for 2

by Dumpster_Fire



Series: Party On [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Bestiality, Come Inflation, Crazy horny, Explicit Consent, If you can't run from your problems climb a tree about them, Keith doesn't know he's in heat, Keith follows orders, Keith gets an awkward sex talk, Keith goes crazy, Keith in Heat (Voltron), Keith's first heat, Knotting, Licking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marathon Sex, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Obsession, Other, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Talk, Sparring, Wet Dream, semi-explicit consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22728562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dumpster_Fire/pseuds/Dumpster_Fire
Summary: Kosmo pins Keith for the first time, and after that Keithcan'tstop thinking about being pinned and mounted by a certain blue wolf. To the point where he thinks he's going crazy.AKA: The story of how Keith and Kosmo get together.
Relationships: Keith/Keith's Wolf (Voltron)
Series: Party On [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634386
Comments: 4
Kudos: 167





	Prequel: Party for 2

**Author's Note:**

> Opening disclaimer: Don't fuck real dogs. It's not cool. Just go write/draw about fucking fictional dogs! That's hella cool! ^-^

There’s surprisingly little to do on a space whale. 

Sure, there are some big monsters waiting to eat them, but for the most part he, Krolia, and Kosmo have scared all those off to another section of the woods. There’s plenty of food to go around - the whale doesn’t seem to have seasons, so the fruit and vegetables grow in cycles one after the other without end. 

The main chores are gathering firewood, hunting food, and keeping fit. 

Unsurprisingly, keeping fit is Keith’s favourite. 

He’s always been quite focused on his self-defence. He’s no Shiro, but he’s a fair hand in a fight. And now he has his mother to teach him new moves, and a teleporting space wolf to give him an interesting challenge.

It’s a bright morning, somewhere around a year and a half into their journey through the abyss. Keith and Kosmo are sparring. It’s not really a spar in the way Keith used to think of it, but training with Kosmo presents Keith with a whole slew of unique challenges that would never come up against a bipedal opponent. For one, Kosmo stays low always. Unless he’s leaping, in which case he’s all pointy ends and 100 lbs of fur. 

He’s even more of a challenge today because Kosmo has taken another growth spurt. It’s only happened in the last week or so; suddenly he shot up and bulked out. He looks good – more proportioned and less gangly and awkward. He’s grown into his paws, finally, and gotten significantly heavier.

He’s become stealthier. He can creep through the forest on a hunt without making a sound. He’s more focused too. 

He’s also fighting with more determination than ever; like he’s got something to prove to Keith. 

They chase each other around the small clearing where they prefer to train, each swatting at the other with hands or paws, trying to get in a hit. Keith is light on his feet, his ears and eyes (all senses, really) strictly attuned to the wolf, waiting for the moment Kosmo poofs away so that he can try to anticipate where the wolf will land. 

Kosmo likes to pop in directly behind Keith and try to knock him over that way, so Keith has to be quick to turn the second the wolf disappears. 

It’s an intricate dance, and one they’re getting very good at. Keith knows how Kosmo thinks – for the most part, at least. He knows well enough to get a sense for when and how and where Kosmo will move. 

Only problem is that Kosmo knows the same for Keith. 

Keith feints left then lunges right, going for Kosmo’s neck. It’s a risky move because the neck is very close to the mouth and the mouth is where the teeth live, but if Keith’s quick and uses the heel of his hand to bat Kosmo’s muzzle out of the way, he can get the wolf into a choke hold. 

Keith doesn’t land a hit.

Kosmo dodges, moving like Keith is pushing him with ‘the force.’ The wolf makes a rumbling “ruff” noise, his yellow eyes twinkling at Keith. It’s a taunting noise, Keith knows it is. Kosmo’s making fun of him. It’s the space wolf equivalent of ‘missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me.’

Keith growls and kicks out. It lands dead centre in Kosmo’s chest, but the wolf jumps with it, absorbing some of the blow. 

He keeps moving to circle Keith.

He moves faster now. He’s surer on his feet now too. Confident as he circles and circles Keith.

Keith tries to keep up with it, keeps his focus on Kosmo whether or not he can see the beast. He knows it’s coming. Any second.

A static shock runs through the air, prickling up the skin on Keith’s arm, and he knows Kosmo’s teleporting. He expects Kosmo to appear behind him, and out of instinct, Keith steps to the side and bends himself in half so Kosmo should go flying past his head.

Only Kosmo doesn’t go for his back. He lands at Keith’s side just as Keith’s moving and they crash into each other. They land just shy of a boulder but spare no thought to the narrow escape from real injury. They’re both back on their feet quick as lightning and circling each other once more.

“Heh. Close one, puppy,” Keith taunts, staying light on his feet, his hands raised and ready to attack. 

Kosmo growls good-naturedly and shakes out his fur like he’s shaking out water. It’s a prideful gesture and Keith reads it for what it is. ‘I will take you down.’

“You can try.” 

It’s a close match after that. They circle and scuffle and break free and repeat. Over and over. 

Then, Kosmo blinks in out of nowhere, mid leap, aimed dead centre at Keith’s chest. He pops in too close for Keith to get out of the way, no matter how good Keith’s reaction time. He shouts as he goes down. Then he groans as the breath is knocked out of him. 

Kosmo pins Keith into the grass. 

He’s got both hind legs over Keith’s thighs, his paws resting heavily on Keith’s chest. His teeth are barred just inches from Keith’s throat. 

They stay like that for a long minute. Kosmo is waiting for Keith to yield while Keith is…

Keith is grappling with things he doesn’t understand.

He’s hot. Flushed hot. Sweating hot, but not in the way he was just a second ago. His arms feel weak, and he can’t even bring himself to think about getting away. Though he does try and move under Kosmo, not really trying to escape – not the way he should be – just testing the surety of Kosmo’s hold. Just testing the weight of the wolf and the give of his heavy, rough paws. 

Keith likes this.

Something lurking deep in the shadows of his hindbrain feels suddenly alight. Like it’s rubbing its hands and whispering “yessss” to Keith’s subconscious. 

But Keith can’t even focus on that because he’s _so incredibly hot_. His heart is pounding, and his stomach is churning, and he feels a little sick and overwhelmed. 

Kosmo gives a little growl and leans close enough that one fang pricks lightly at Keith’s neck.

Keith yelps with surprise. But he still doesn’t try and push Kosmo off.

Kosmo growls again and Keith can feel it in his chest. The wolf wants something. What? Keith wants to give it.

Yield!

He wants Keith to yield. 

He wants to claim his prize – no, that doesn’t make sense. What prize? He wants to know he’s won. 

“Yield,” Keith says softly. Then again, stronger, “yield.” 

Kosmo is off him without a second thought. He sits and watches Keith slowly pick himself up from the forest floor, his expression gloating. 

It’s the first time he’s pinned Keith like that, and the beast is _proud_. It’s almost disgusting. 

He walks with an extra strut to his gait as they head back to their home cave, and his tail wags exuberantly when Keith admits his defeat to Krolia. For the rest of the night, Keith swears the wolf sits straighter, his ears high and alert. Smug bastard.

Keith tries not to think about it too much. It’s hardly the first time he’s ever been pinned, though it’s the first time Kosmo’s done it. And it’s certainly the first time he didn’t burn with anger and self-loathing for having been beaten.

Instead he… he kind of liked it.

That’s not something Keith’s really willing to admit to himself, but when it’s time to tuck in for the night and he finds himself alone in his little pile of pelts, he can’t stop his mind from going over it all in detail. His stomach churns, but in a good way. A butterflies way. 

He can’t place what about it was so good. Was it the weight? Was it the wolfy smell he doesn’t remember noticing but now can’t seem to get out of his nose? Was it the rough prick of Kosmo’s paws against his chest and thighs? Was is the hot breath on his neck and the hint of fang along his skin? 

No!

No, it was none of that. 

None.

But what was it? He relives the moment over and over until he’s tossing and uncomfortable in his bed. He’s warm again, but the air outside his pelts is too cool. His stomach is in knots, but he can do nothing to relieve the pressure. He doesn’t know what to do with his arms or his hands. 

There’s an urge behind his restlessness that he’s unwilling to name. So, he closes his eyes and fists his hands into balls to keep himself from acting on any unnamed desires. 

Keith’s sleep is restless and when he wakes, he feels like shit. He knows he dreamed, but he doesn’t remember what they were. All he knows is it leaves him wanting something he doesn’t understand. He feels like he needs something, but he doesn’t know what. 

He spends most of the day in a grumpy, tired stupor. 

It’s his turn to go look for firewood and though it’s unnecessary, he brings Kosmo. There’s no reason for it, it’s not like Keith feels unsafe on his own. It’s just, he feels like he wants Kosmo around. Like he needs to keep an eye on the wolf.

Actually, he finds it hard to take his eyes _off_ the wolf. 

He’s really come into his own with this last growth spurt. He’s as high as Keith’s hips, and he looks solid. Strong. 

His coat is shining. It shimmers in the sun, the iridescence of his blue streaks glowing happily in the shadows of the trees. He looks good.

Very good.

So good, it’s distracting. Distracting enough that Keith forgets the mission they’re on several times and walks past perfectly good fallen wood before he catches himself and circles back to add it to his pile.

Fuck. He just needs to focus. Get his head in the game.

Stop thinking about the wolf and the way he pinned him yesterday. Keith went down so easily yesterday, he bets Kosmo could do it again in a heartbeat. He could have Keith down in the grass like it was nothing. Push Keith down. Give Keith what he deserves.

Wait… 

Keith stops in his tracks.

_What he deserves???_ What the fuck, Keith?! 

What is wrong with him today? He needs to get this out of his mind. He’s dwelling and this really isn’t healthy. 

He gives up on the firewood about halfway and returns back to camp. He sequesters himself in their cave, blaming it on a sore stomach. 

He rolls up in his pelts and clutches them close to his face. The worst part is that he actually doesn’t feel well. His gut is churning again and he’s starting to think he’s got cramps. Maybe he ate something?

He hasn’t eaten anything different that usual, but then again, maybe the space whale berries they’ve been eating for the last year are finally catching up to him and causing some sort of delirium. That’d be nice. Then he couldn’t be blamed for his own errant thoughts. 

Now that he’s resting, he feels even worse and it crosses his mind that he really is sick. He could use some comfort, too. Maybe Kosmo could come lay down with him? Just to give him something soft and warm to pet as he tries to nap. He almost calls the wolf in, but he thinks better of it and grips his furs even tighter. 

He needs a nap. That’s all.

When Keith sleeps, he dreams about laying in his pelts with Kosmo. It’s a nice dream. He curls up along Kosmo’s back and draws his hands slowly through the soft fur at Kosmo’s belly. It’s comforting just to have him there. It’s just how it should be. And Keith just keeps rubbing and rubbing, his hand drifting lower… and a little lower… and a little…

Krolia wakes Keith up for supper and he’s so disoriented he can’t tell reality from dream. He’s petting the pelts he sleeps under like they’re Kosmo and he’s… _hot_. He has to send Krolia away and promise he’ll be out in a few minutes before he even dares lift the covers. 

He pretends that he’s confused, even if the only one he’s trying to fool is himself. He tells himself he doesn’t know why he woke up half-hard when his dream was so clearly non-sexual. It’s unfathomable.

But the lies you tell yourself can only go so far, and there’s honesty in the embarrassed flush that graces Keith’s cheeks for the rest of the night. 

The next day, Keith is cranky as ever and had just as poor sleep. Plus, his gut still feels weird. _Plus_ , he now feels lightheaded and off-kilter. 

He spends most of his day sitting around the campfire, grumpily shoving twigs into the flames, and doing his best to scrub his brain of any and all impure thoughts. 

It’s harder than it sounds.

Kosmo sits at his side, watching him with concern in those wide, yellow eyes. He seems to know that Keith isn’t feeling well and has taken it on himself to make sure Keith is looked after. It’s sweet, and it fills Keith with affection so strong that he can’t send the wolf away. But neither can he stop thinking about it.

Kosmo’s so sweet. He’s so attentive and caring. He’d take such good care of Keith. He’d be ideal, really. He’s strong too. Strong enough to pin Keith. Strong enough to take what he wanted. 

In his minds eye, Keith keeps seeing Kosmo pin him. He feels that low growl reverberate through his whole body again. He feels that heavy weight, trapping him helplessly.

Kosmo is Keith’s superior now. Not in any kind of rank, maybe, but he’s shown he can best Keith. There’s some unbidden hierarchy in Keith’s hindbrain that now recognizes Kosmo’s authority. 

So when Kosmo grows restless in the afternoon and clearly wants to go for a walk to stretch his legs, all he has to do is stand tall, proud, and alert, with his eyes trained on Keith’s and give a little nod of his head and Keith finds himself following. They wind through the trees and circle the camp. They don’t go far and when they return, Kosmo walks Keith down to the spot he’s been sitting all day and waits expectantly until Keith sits back down.

Kosmo sits at Keith’s knee and looks up at him with big, earnest eyes that just beg for pets and Keith can’t refuse the request. He sinks his hands into the soft fur and scratches along Kosmo’s head and neck. After a few good scritches, Keith feels himself relax into it. 

There’s a comfort here in petting Kosmo, having the wolf so close and able to run his fingers through thick blue fur. In a slow movement, Keith shifts himself down onto the ground so he and Kosmo are about eye level and he lets himself lean against the wolf. He hugs around him and Kosmo leans into it. 

They stay like that for a long, long time, just Keith petting and scratching. Somewhere along the line he puts his whole face into the fur along Kosmo’s neck and just breathes in that good, wolfy smell. It calms him. It even feels like it helps with his cramps. 

Kosmo’s so big and solid. And warm against Keith where they’re pressed together. He’s soft too, though protective with the way he sits with his ears at attention while Keith isn’t feeling well.

The fur under Keith’s hands is soft like what he imagines cashmere feels like. Running his hands through it in a slow repetition is like a meditation. Keith loses himself in it and his thoughts wander.

Wander around the wolf. 

How he looks, how he feels, how he smells. How he seems to always know what Keith’s thinking. How he’s strong. How he pinned Keith. How he sat on Keith with all that weight. How in that dream Keith’s hands kept working lower and lower and how he nearly reached low enough to get his hands full. And what a handful that would be. Warm and hard. And slick? Maybe just soft. The skin at the head of Keith’s dick is soft and smooth and maybe Kosmo’s would be the same. Maybe…

There are footsteps in the woods.

Keith stops.

He stops all movement and has to mentally check where his hands are right now. 

They’re still on Kosmo’s neck and chest. He’s good. It’s fine. 

Keith breathes a sigh of relief as Krolia returns to the camp. 

“Feeling better?” she asks. If she notices Keith’s deep blush, she says nothing. Likely she attributes it to his illness.

“Yeah. Kosmo’s helping.”

Krolia’s lips crook up in a smile, “I’m sure he is.”

That night in Keith’s dream he gets much farther with Kosmo. There’s no more cuddling and petting. He’s back in the clearing where they spar. He’s flat on his back with Kosmo looming over him. Only there’s a presence between Kosmo’s legs that Keith can’t see but he can feel. It’s like an awareness, an unwavering knowledge that it’s there. And it’s hard. And it’s ready for Keith.

Dream Keith moans and writhes under Kosmo’s weight and spreads his legs wide. He wants like he’s never wanted before. He feels like there’s a gaping hole inside him that only Kosmo can fill. 

As soon as he thinks it, Keith is breeched. Kosmo is surging into him, like a wild animal. 

Keith kicks up his legs and bucks into the movement. He screams and shouts for more. But it’s not enough. It’s perfect but it’s empty. He feels amazing but it’s disjointed. He’s missing something. 

The knot!

Keith begs Kosmo, begs his dream, “please! Please give me the knot! God, puppy, please, I need it!” But no matter what Keith says, how he begs, or how he wraps his legs around the wolf, he does not get the knot. Nothing works.

And when Keith wakes up to find himself sweating and thrashing about, grinding himself into the cave floor, he is immediately filled with shame. He burns with it. He freezes to keep himself from punching at the floor like a child having a tantrum, but it’s not easy. His hips manage to make a few more grinds into the stone, and now that he’s awake he feels like he’s close enough that just a few more good ones will tip him over.

But he can’t!

Of course he can’t.

His mom is on the other side of the cave. Kosmo’s laying near his feet. He can’t!

Except… Kosmo isn’t near Keith’s feet.

The click of nails against stone tells Keith that Kosmo is much closer. He’s right beside him, standing over Keith’s sweaty, bundled, horny body. 

Kosmo’s wet nose presses against the back of Keith’s neck as the wolf sniffs him, checking that Keith’s all right. 

It sends a shiver down Keith’s spine that he has no choice but to turn into anger lest it break all his well-built self-control.

Keith springs from his pelts. He whispers a quick “Not now, Kosmo,” in a rough, angry tone, and storms out of the cave. 

Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with him.

Keith sits himself down in the dirt where he sat just a few hours before with Kosmo and he tries not to cry. Something is deeply wrong with him. 

He can’t stop thinking about Kosmo. 

Can’t stop thinking about his knot. He still feels that emptiness he felt in the dream and he _wants_ desperately to fill it. He wants any of it. All of it. He wants Kosmo to pin him and take and take and take until he’s bloated with cum and finally satiated. 

Fuck! He’s doing it again! He can’t stop. He just can’t stop thinking about it. 

Bitterly, Keith reaches into the underpants he wears to bed and wraps a hand around himself. He whimpers at the feeling of his hand, but at the same time, he hates himself. 

He tilts his head back and looks up at the wonder of the quantum abyss and tries not to think about the wolf as he fucks himself hard and fast into a dry fist. He doesn’t deserve spit. He doesn’t deserve anything. He can feel the gaping emptiness of his asshole, but he doesn’t let himself engage with it. He bites the fingers of his other hand to keep himself from fingering himself open and tries to think of anything else. 

He counts the broken, floating planet fragments of the abyss. He thinks about his first crush, Griffin. He thinks about his old fantasy of having Shiro pull him aside after class and offer to fuck him while he flies the simulator. None of it works.

But then Kosmo makes a baleful noise from inside the cave, like he’s checking in on whether Keith’s alright, and that works. 

Like a key unlocking a chest, Kosmo’s whine releases the floodgates.

Keith thinks of all the ways Kosmo could pin him down. All the ways he could take him. In the dirt, fucking him hard and fast until Keith is crying. Or maybe filling Keith’s mouth and fucking him sore. He could knot Keith and breed him like the dumb, horny bitch Keith is. Breed him over and over and knot Keith so he can’t take any more. He’s ashamed, but that shame makes it all so much sweeter and he’s trapped in a never-ending loop that doesn’t end until he’s fat with Kosmo’s cum.

Keith whimpers as he comes, just the tip of a finger dry in his ass. So much for biting them. 

The next few days, Keith feels like he’s strung out. He’s slowly losing grip on reality. His dreams are so vivid now he can hardly tell what’s real and what isn’t. Only the steady, grating emptiness of his asshole tells him that he hasn’t gone through with his baser desires. 

He can’t go near Kosmo now. He doesn’t trust himself to. Kosmo has definitely noticed, and he watches Keith every moment, his eyes full of concern and something that Keith (for the sake of his sanity) will not allow himself to classify as wistfulness. 

Krolia has noticed as well, though she says nothing. 

Keith’s too temperamental to be spoken to. He’s geared up and stuffed full of more self-hatred and hormones than he ever thought possible and he’s waiting for a reason to snap . 

Every moment feels like the boiling point, but he doesn’t reach his real boiling point until about a week after ‘the incident.’ 

It’s evening and Keith is sharpening sticks to roast some fish, doing the bare minimum to help out. His cramps have been over and done with for about 2 days now, but suddenly that’s no longer true. He’s gripped with a sudden, wrenching pain through his gut and lower back. 

His pants feel drenched like he’s bleeding out and for a brief moment he thinks ‘this is it. This is how I die.’ 

Then his heart begins to pound, his cock begins to harden, and his entire awareness cuts down to 3 things. 

1: He is hornier than he’s ever been in his life and he needs his ass filled _this instant_.

2: Kosmo! He needs Kosmo right now. Needs Kosmo in him, deep, deep, and deeper until he’s too full to move.

3: If he does not get out of here this second, he will stop at nothing to get Kosmo’s knot in his ass.

A lightning-fast assessment of his surroundings shows there’s only one place where he’ll be safe from himself – and more importantly, where Kosmo will be safe from him.

Keith launches to his feet and throws himself up into the branches of the largest tree that surrounds their camp. He climbs high as he dares, then wraps his arms and legs around the trunk and holds on for dear life.

Kosmo follows Keith to the tree and barks up at him. The wolf stretches out on his hind legs to try and reach up to Keith, worry clouding his eyes, ears pinned back like he’s being scolded. He whines at Keith.

Keith just holds on even tighter, shuts his eyes, and starts to cry from the pain and emptiness he feels.

Sometime later, Krolia finds Keith like this, openly weeping, clinging to (and lightly humping) a tree, with a frantic and desolate Kosmo circling the trunk and barking up at her son.

“Keith,” Krolia says. Her voice is rich with nuance that Keith is too far gone to parse through. It’s long-suffering, but sympathetic, while simultaneously calling Keith a damn fool.

“I can’t,” Keith howls, his voice reedy from his tears. “I can’t stop myself. I’m so sorry….” He says a bit more, but it’s lost to his sobs and even Keith can’t be sure what he’s saying. 

“Keith, come down here.”

“I _ca-aa-aaan’t!_ ” Keith cries. “I’ll fu-ah-ahhhh-aahh!!”

Krolia sighs deeply and sets the fish she caught down by the fire. She jumps neatly into the tree and sits on a branch just below Keith so that they can look at each other.

“What’s wrong, Keith?” She puts a hand through Keith’s sweaty, disgusting hair and then pinches over the back of his neck. It’s weirdly soothing. For the first time in several minutes, Keith is able to take a deep breath. 

“I’m disgusting,” he says, bitterly.

“Why are you disgusting?” 

Keith shifts uncomfortably and averts his eyes. Krolia pinches his neck again, that helps, but it still doesn’t make Keith want to talk about it.

“Because you want Kosmo?” Krolia guesses.

Keith nearly falls out of the tree, but his mother’s strong hands are there to grab him and keep him in place.

“Y-you knew?” Keith doesn’t know if he’s more amazed or betrayed, but it’s definitely some combination of both.

Krolia smiles. “It’s hard to miss the signs of 2nd puberty.”

Keith’s brain might only be working at half capacity, but even if it weren’t, he’d still be at a loss. “Huh?”

“You’ve chosen Kosmo to be your mate. When he pinned you, your body accepted him and started your heat cycle.”

“Heat?” Keith remembers his father telling him about heats. He was still young – he had to be if his father was there – and his father had pointed out a yowling barn cat that had taken refuge in their little shed and had been keeping Keith up at night. It had always seemed like a weird thing to tell a kid, but maybe if his dad knew the Galra went through a similar cycle he was just trying to prepare his son for what was coming. 

“Yes. It should only last a few hours if you let Kosmo take care of it,” Krolia explains briskly. Giving a sex talk to your child is always uncomfortable, no matter how long or short a time they’ve been in your life. “It will last several days if you maintain your… tree approach.” She cocks an eyebrow at the branch Keith is still clinging to. He’s mostly stopped humping it. 

“But…. What about Kosmo..?”

“What about him?”

Keith made a vague gesture.

He receives a blank stare in return.

“What if he doesn’t want me?”

Krolia laughs, not unkindly, at that. “I hardly think you would have been triggered to accept him as a mate if he did not want you. And I doubt anyone uninterested would have watched you over the last few quintents the way he has. But if you’re unsure, you could always ask him.”

It takes Keith a long moment to parse through everything his mother said. Too much of his brain is taken up by her surety that Kosmo wants him too. It’s too good to hope to be true. He wants Kosmo so bad he doesn’t know what to do with himself (case in point: he’s currently wrapped around a tree to stop himself from riding the wolf like a prize bull). 

Finally, Keith nods. 

Krolia helps him down out of the tree, his limbs feeling shaky and weak from his heat. 

As soon as he’s back on solid ground, Keith drops to his knees in front of Kosmo.

“Hey buddy, do you-?” His question is interrupted by Kosmo’s tongue licking across his face and over his mouth.

All words fly from Keith’s brain as he opens his mouth wide to allow Kosmo to lick deep into him. He licks Kosmo’s tongue in return and lurches forward to bury his hands in the fur around Kosmo’s neck.

“Ahem.” Krolia clears her throat rather loudly. “Not here, please.”

Keith isn’t listening. He’s whining for more and leaning closer to lick along Kosmo’s muzzle, his tongue drawing along the tip of Kosmo’s long fangs.

There’s a puff of blue and the unsettling feeling of being moved and when Keith blinks he sees that they’re in their grove. The one where Kosmo first pinned him.

Fuck!

Keith whines and clamps his legs together. He’s dripping wet (somehow) and desperate. He needs Kosmo. Needs him now. Hard and fast.

Keith’s hands fumble with his suit, trying to peel himself out at top speed while Kosmo begins to lick distracting kisses along Keith’s jaw and the soft spots on his neck. He hits that spot along the back of Keith’s neck and everything freezes; Keith’s body goes slack, ready to be used.

“Mmmf, Kosmo,” Keith whines. His arms are trapped in his suit and he nearly rips them off in his haste to be free. All of him is on fire, and there’s no room in his brain for anything that isn’t his wolf. 

The smell of Kosmo is already filling his nose and clouding his thoughts, making everything seem slower and more pleasurable. Kosmo’s tongue is wet and rough and amazing over Keith’s sensitive skin. 

Somehow, Keith gets the suit down around his thighs. He’s on his hands and knees trying to push it down further when Kosmo takes it in his mouth and hauls it off. He flings it to the side with a glob of slobber and within seconds he’s back on Keith. 

Keith is crying again, this time purely from joy and desperation. The cool air on his skin is a rush, but it’s nothing compared to the lightning strike up Keith’s spine when Kosmo’s snout presses between his cheeks and that large, strong tongue delves between his crack and fucks into his hole.

Keith howls, his fingers digging into the dirt. His whole body bends, keeping his ass level with Kosmo’s mouth while the rest of him hits the dirt. 

He yields.

He yields everything to Kosmo.

“Kosmo!” Keith pants into the forest floor. “Come on, puppy. I need it! Gimme it. Please, Kosmo. Now. I need you now.” 

Kosmo growls a low, pleased sound while his tongue is still deep inside Keith. It’s an entirely new sensation and it’s enough to curl Keith’s toes. But still, it’s not that he needs. Keith needs to be filled.

Kosmo seems to know that (or perhaps he’s just listened to Keith’s steady stream of pleas). He draws back and quickly mounts over Keith. His soft fur boxes Keith in at all sides, except for where Keith’s chest and cheek drag through the grass and dirt of the forest floor. Kosmo’s paws settle in on either side of Keith’s head. Keith curls his fingers around Kosmo’s paw and stretches his neck to give a quick kiss to the blue fur there. 

He screams a hoarse, breathless yodel as Kosmo’s cock slides in, sudden, hard, and _deep_. He fills Keith better than Keith could ever hope, and then some. He slides in easy, but tight, all the way to the root and doesn’t even give Keith a moment to adjust before he’s pulling back out and thrusting in even harder.

Keith rocks in the dirt from the force of Kosmo’s thrust, so the wolf puts a paw into the centre of Keith’s back, keeping him pinned to the ground, unable to move even from the force of Kosmo’s hips. He gives Keith no quarter. He fucks hard, fast, and ruthless.

Keith _LOVES_ it! 

He eats it up. 

He takes it all and cries for more whenever he has the breath to beg. 

A hot drip of drool lands on his back and turns quickly cold and Keith revels in it. He’s dirty - _filthy_ \- and taking Kosmo’s cock like a perfect whore. The shame of it all licks up Keith’s sides and fans the flames. 

He rides unending pleasure, feeling shockwave after shockwave with each sharp slap of Kosmo’s hips. But he doesn’t come until Kosmo’s knot is pulling at his rim, stretching him wider than he ever thought possible. 

“Yes! Yes, Kosmo! Good boy! Fuck me. Knot me. Give it to me. Gimme your knot, fuck your knot! Yes-yes-yes-yes _fuck_ yes, puppy, yes.” Keith shouts. His head is pressed so hard into the dirt he gets a mouthful of grass as he cries, but he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is that stretch. The stretch around his rim and all through his slutty little hole. That burning, blissful, impossible stretch as Kosmo finally pushes in so hard he sticks.

There’s a hot burst inside Keith. He can feel every sweet ounce of it, stretching him even further past his limit.

Keith’s body tenses as he whites out with orgasm, then he pools to the ground like melted ice cream. 

His brain is singing as he lies there, stretched past all endurance. 

He has Kosmo. He has everything he’s wanted for the last week. And more. 

Keith could never have dreamed this would be as satisfactory as it is. Even his best, most sanity-destroying dreams had nothing on this. 

Nothing could ever compare to Kosmo’s knot.

Except, maybe, for round 2. 

Round 2 is better because it starts the moment there’s even a little give in Kosmo’s knot. 

They both feel it start to deflate, and when they do, Keith starts to beg again. 

“No Kosmo, I need it, I need it, please, I need it. Give it to me again.”

So Kosmo gives it to him again.

He fucks his still-shrinking knot in and out of Keith’s sloppy hole until it’s frothing with cum and whatever the hell is leaking out of Keith’s ass that’s easing the slide. Kosmo gives it hard, pistoning his hips with abandon until he’s knotting into Keith again and filling Keith with another thick load.

Keith claws through the dirt, digging deep ruts into the soil, as his second orgasm runs through him. 

He comes with a whimper after his 3rd knotting, and he’s completely silent and breathless for his 4th. 

Sometime during the night, Kosmo transports them (still connected by his knot) to the edge of a freshwater stream where Keith can scoop up handfuls of water to drink and rub down his filthy, sweaty body. 

It’s long after noon the following day when they finally stumble, sore and so tired they’re near-delirious, back to camp. Keith is, literally, fat with Kosmo’s spoils, and he’s sated in a way that he can feel deep into his bones. 

Krolia says nothing as they both mechanically chew some leftover fish, and then they disappear into the cave to curl up in Keith’s pelts and sleep the rest of the day and night away.

The following morning, Keith and Kosmo are given a crash course in surviving Galra heats, and Krolia forces a morning after pill down Keith’s throat with the help of a commanding bark from Kosmo. 

And thus begins Keith’s new normal.

**Author's Note:**

> WHEW! What a friggin' ride!
> 
> I did not really intend to write this at all. Like, at all! But I was thinking about Party in the Black Lion and how I wrote Keith and Kosmo got together and it triggered my horny writer brain and I wrote this entire thing in 1 sitting! Took me till 2 am on a weeknight but it was WORTH IT! I'm weirdly proud of it. I like how I wrote Keith's internal dilemma and burgeoning obsession. That part is more fun and hotter than the sex, for me.
> 
> I hope you like it!


End file.
